


Subtlety

by aphrodisiatic_cat



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Ass Play, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Romance, Sex, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodisiatic_cat/pseuds/aphrodisiatic_cat
Summary: Rose finds some boldness and teaches the Doctor about the humans' approach to romance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Will probably keep going with this one but no promises <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after New Earth and before Tooth and Claw

Rose closed the TARDIS door gently behind her with a sense of mounting excitement, as the Doctor bounded up to the console.

“Right!” he exclaimed. “Where to next?”

Rose strolled up and leaned against one of the rails, watching the Doctor with bemusement as he spun around the central console in his typical fervour. The only thing on her mind was that kiss Cassandra gave him. Cassandra had popped Rose’s shirt open a button, and she’d been brave enough to keep it as is.

“I dunno, Doctor” she said with a sigh. “I’m pretty tired.” She layered her tone with all the implication she could find, tilting her head with a grin.

He stopped in front of her, suddenly crestfallen. “I, uh…yeah of course, you humans get tired, yeah…there’ll be a temporal fall in Narcissus in twenty minutes, is all, but…no, right, no problem.”

“Well, aren’t you tired? Don’t you sleep?” 

“Not as a general rule, no. A few hours every couple months keeps me fresh.” He grinned widely.

Rose moved a little closer to him, enjoying the writhing snakes in her belly. “So, do you want to show me to a bedroom? Got to be one somewhere in this gigantic place.”

The Doctor opened his mouth, and then a grin spread across his face. A guffaw escaped him.

“…Doctor?”

He chuckled again, then stopped quickly. “Sorry, um…” Then he doubled over, wracked with laughter.

Rose smiled, but was still lost. “Well, what’s the joke then?”

The Doctor composed himself. “Nothing, just… ‘show me to the bedroom’…” He swallowed his grin. “Subtlety can be a fine thing, Rose.”

She couldn't decide if she should be hurt or not. This usually worked back home…

But even as his condescension stung, she knew what she was going to do.

“Subtlety? Well, you Time Lords may be big fans of this long, drawn-out courting nonsense…” 

As she talked, she moved closer and closer, not breaking eye contact for a second. The Doctor’s bemusement was shifting slowly to something more hidden, and he watched her closely.

“…but down on planet Earth,” she continued. “We prefer a more…forward approach.”

As she said this, she reached for her next button, undoing it and exposing her bra. The Doctor’s face revealed nothing, but his eyes couldn’t stop themselves from slowly moving to her breasts.

“See, I don’t understand the need to hide…anything.” 

Another button. 

“If two people are attracted to each other, then what’s the point in waiting?” 

Another. 

“And I’m fairly sure there’s an attraction here.” 

She smiled to herself as she undid another button. 

“…wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?” 

Yet another.

He managed to drag his eyes away from her unveiling belly, and gazed into Rose’s with fiery heat. He managed a shake of the head and a blasé tone as he said, “No, actually, not much attraction at all.”

She smiled widely, and drew her shirt away from her shoulders, discarded it. She was as close to him as could be without touching, and she felt exposed but completely beautiful; the Doctor’s desire was palpable. 

Carefully, deliberately, she reach one hand up and touched his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the cheekbone.

The tide broke, and he was kissing her as if she were air to a drowning man. Both hands were on her face, cradling her. She responded at once, wrapping her arms around him and holding on, exhilarated by the pressure of his skinny little body. His kisses became less ferocious, tasting her as they began to learn how the other person liked to kiss. One hand skimmed over bare skin, moving over her shoulder and down her side, resting on her waist. The Doctor pulled her to him with that same desperation, and she gripped even tighter. 

She broke the kiss, breathing heavily. She was captivated by the wild hunger in the Doctor’s eyes, one she’d never seen before. Rose gave him a soft kiss, then another. He took over, kissing from her mouth to her ear and then down her neck, causing her to sigh in pleasure. Her hand gripped his short hair, while the other moved to his hips, making sure he was still held tightly to her. 

He pulled away a little, both hands on her waist, his eyes molten. “Come with me,” he said breathed.

Gripping her hand tightly, the Doctor moved with even greater urgency than usual, deeper into the TARDIS, through twisting passageways that went up and down and sometimes in a full circle. He finally paused, opening an innocuous red door for her.

Rose entered, taking in the modest queen-sized bed that occupied most of the bedroom, and turned back to the Doctor. She kissed him roughly just as he pulled the door closed, pushing him up against it. His hands moved everywhere, and she gasped as he squeezed her ass. The Doctor pulled away and twisted her, turning her so her back slammed against the closed door instead of his. Now he could use it to push his hips into hers, holding their bodies together even more tightly. Both hands moved to Rose’s breasts, cupping them and feeling for the erect nipples through her bra. 

He stilled. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighed.

She responded with a kiss, relishing his soft, light touches along her bare torso. It didn’t take the Doctor long to move to her bra hooks, and the tension of her bra lessened as it, too, was discarded. The Doctor grew hungry again, one hand pinning her hips to him while the other teased her nipple. She threw her head back and gasped at the sensation, exposing her throat and neck. He devoured her, breathing deeply into her hair. His desperate, rasping breathes were loud in her ear, sending a bolt of heat through her.

She got her hands between them and began working on the Doctor’s buttons, first his jacket and then the shirt underneath. Her hands stroking along his freckled shoulders, down his chest and then around to grip his skinny hip. One hand still rested on his chest, where the collarbone was prominent beneath her palm. 

It was strange to see him so exposed, but there was also a heady thrill of seeing him partially naked, and she crushed him to her. The sensation of his hot skin against hers was unreal, and she cried out as he bit her neck. His arm was wrapped around her, returning the pressure, until they were clinging to each other.

His hand travelled, beginning at the skin to her back, sweeping upwards, then down from her shoulder blades all the way to the small of her back…and then further, to draw her against him from her ass. His hands moved to the front, skimming quickly over Rose’s sex in a move that made her gasp, then stroking her belly, sending tingles all over her. Up, up, to her breasts, which still held him fascinated. They hung heavy, the nipples brown and hard. He drew them into his mouth, taking his time discovering what made her breath stutter. Small, hard nibbles had her pulling on his hair as she moaned.

Finally, he could take it no more. Still clutching her, the Doctor stepped backwards, drawing them both to the bed. He fell backwards, and Rose crawled after him. She slowly caressed his torso, smoothing over his flat stomach and then focusing on his belt. Before long she dragged his pants off, and only his briefs remained, his dick hard as a post through the thin fabric. She sat on the edge of the bed and quickly discarded her own pants, leaving her in modest black underwear. 

Rose turned to find the Doctor gazing at her with smouldering lust, and she smiled back at him. Moving on all fours, enjoying how her breasts swung heavy and full, she moved over him, straddling him but not allowing herself to touch him just yet. Only his hands, and as she kissed him slowly, his hands began at her knees and moved slowly up her thigh, over her ass and resting on her waist. They stayed like that for a time, with Rose suspended over him, the delicious promise of their bodies being brought together. 

Rose moved slightly, dipping her breasts down so the nipples brushed against his chest. The Doctor stifled a moan in response, his hands immediately moving to her breasts. She lowered her hips too, pressing her cunt against his dick. This time she moaned, to finally have pressure on her throbbing clit. The Doctor wrapped both arms around her and crushed her down, pressing her against every inch of him, as much contact as possible. It was a sublime feeling after the building sexual tension, and Rose clung to him too. They stayed like that for a moment, until the Doctor began kissing her neck again, and Rose started moving.

She was getting desperate for some pressure, and so her hips began grinding down upon the lump of his dick. His hands moved feverishly over her thighs, her ass, her hips, encouraging her. His hips moved a little as well, and each time he met her hot cunt, Rose couldn't help but gasp. 

The Doctor’s hands moved from the outside of her thigh to the inside, and she halted as he moved them very gradually upwards. He stroked his thumbs in wide circles, each brush infinitesimally closer to her desperate cunt. His hands moved away, to her ass, then back again, now his fingertips were brushing her inner thighs, just inches from her underwear. Rose was still as a stone, panting a little, dying for his fingertips to move against her clit. They brushed the edge of her underwear and Rose shuddered. She opened her eyes and gazed at him, noticing his slight smirk as he teased her. 

The flat of his hand pressed against her, and she gasped loudly at the release, but just as quickly he was gone again, returning to small little strokes on her lips through the edges of her underwear. He was so close and yet…Rose whimpered a little, and then his fingertips were tracing over her cunt through the fabric, so light and yet Rose was so sensitive that it was overwhelming. Quick as that, he moved her underwear aside, and she shuddered as he finally stroked right up her length. His fingers found her clit, and every time he circled it she moaned again, the feeling incredible after so little contact. The other hand gripped her ass, squeezing tightly until the pain turned to pleasure. 

The Doctor found her most sensitive point, and it felt like everything that Rose was, was contained in that tiny patch of skin, and the Doctor was touching her, touching all of her. She was lost in the sensation, and when he began playing with her nipple, it was overwhelming. She shuddered over him and cried out, his finger wonderfully relentless as it completed her orgasm. He squeezed every drop of pleasure from her, and then she collapsed onto him, peacefully drained. 

The Doctor wiped his soaked finger on the bed and stroked her lightly, one hand following her spine from her shoulder blades, over her ass, and up again. Rose didn’t have a tense muscle in her body as she lay draped over the Doctor’s bony frame. 

But, after a few minutes, she was caressing him too, squeezing a nipple and then a hip bone, and then her fingers were playing over his cock. It was just as hard as it had been in the console room, and Rose was far from satisfied. 

She dragged herself up and rolled away onto the pillows, to slip off her damp underwear, as the Doctor did the same. Rose lay back on the pillows and spread her legs, a move that caused his already darkened eyes to grow black from lust. Leaning over her, his dick rested against her, and then they were chest to chest, gazing into each others’ eyes. 

Rose drank in the feeling of total connection, with their entire bodies pressed against each other, and cupped his face tenderly. His kiss had the same tenderness, until his hips moved slightly, igniting something in both of them. As their kisses gained intensity, Rose reached between then and stroked his cock, positioning it to slide against her clit as the Doctor continued moving. She flicked the head against her, from side to side and then in circles; the incredible sensation had them gasping in unison. 

Then, Rose drew his head along her length and positioned him at her opening. 

The Doctor took it from there, pushing in slowly, watching her face for signs of pain or discomfit. She felt a flash of tightness as he pushed in, but once he was fully inside her, it felt simply right. They shared a rare, special thrill at being so completely joined. The Doctor sat there for a moment, and then pulled out all the way, pushing back in with a small gasp. 

This time Rose moaned as he reached a point deep within her. He started moving in earnest, their eyes never leaving each other’s. Rose was panting, some breaths punctuated with a moan as he once again hit that sweet spot. The Doctor shifted slightly, and suddenly every thrust was hitting the right place, and she whimpered loudly every time. 

He moved faster and faster, panting as hard as Rose was, his face suddenly overtaken by a primal need. His thrusts were harder and harder, but that just drove her wilder, and she began crying out as she clutched at his back.

Without warning, pleasure overtook him, and he shuddered and moaned as he drove one final thrust into her. His vulnerable face, with mouth gaping wide and stuttering breaths, was beautiful to behold. He stayed deep in Rose, as deep as he could, for a moment. When he was ready, he pulled out with a groan, collapsing beside her.

Rose stretched like a cat and then snuggled into him, slinging her leg over him so that her knee rested on his hip. He pulled her as close as he could, his hands smoothing over her tenderly. She spent a long time just looking at his face, noticing the changes there; for the first time she could remember, there was no tension, and his expression was still and calm. 

The Doctor was an intense person, always beaming, or fuming, or fascinated in some technology; his face was always active. Even when he appeared calm, there was usually a storm of fury raging underneath. But no, finally, his face was totally slack, his eyes hooded as he drank Rose in. Only his warm liquid brown eyes betrayed his feelings, where affection had trumped lust. She drank in his smell and his warmth, floating off to sleep submerged in her Doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relaxing wake-up for Rose

Rose was deeply asleep when she felt a hand on her, drifting all over her skin. Lips brushed her cheek, her mouth, then her neck and collarbone. She rolled over a little onto her back, and the mouth moved further down, between her breasts and then to one nipple. It stayed there for an age, and Rose stayed drifting in a soft world of sleep and sensation, blissful. Eventually it continued its path, and she was shocked awake when he suddenly blew a raspberry into her belly. She jolted with a laugh, instinctively covering her belly, and the Doctor chucked too.

“Sorry,” he smiled, kissing her hip. “Just making sure you were awake.” 

“Nope, still asleep”, Rose murmured, relaxing again, as malleable as putty to his touch. His hand pushed at her hip, so she rolled onto her tummy, almost dozing off as his hands traced over her back. Then his mouth was between her shoulder blades, and he kissed slowly down her spine. One thumb was stroking the skin of her waist, and she stretched into the warmth and tingles of his touch.

Finally, his attention turned to her ass, as the Doctor kissed lightly over it. “Still asleep?” he said incredulously. “Not too sure about that.”

Rose could only manage a breathy “Mm hmm” as his thumb brushed up her crack, only just touching her skin. She shifted, arching her back a little into his hands, trying desperately to encourage him. The blissful fog of sleep was gradually giving way to blissful impatience, a desperate need building deep within her body.

He only chuckled, at both her assertion and her reaction. Once again he stroked her, this time downwards, with enough pressure to feel his thumb on her asshole. Her instinctive moan was too loud in the still morning, and she moved into his hand.

“Hmm, she likes that,” the Doctor breathed, smoothing a hand over her raised ass. Then he lightly gripped her hip and pulled it upwards, encouraging her to arch her back further. She stretched so that her ass was raised, legs spread open for him. His sigh made her grin into the pillow.

“So beautiful,” he said, continuing, “and so obedient.”

“‘Ppreciate it while it lasts,” Rose replied with a sleepy smile, and he chuckled. 

“Indeed,” he murmured, and his hand moved over her, his thumb so close to her asshole that Rose gasped. 

“Shh,” he cautioned, and she buried her face in the pillow, but nothing could mask her groan as the Doctor suddenly stroked her swollen clit. It was a sweet, sweet shock, and Rose grumbled in consternation as his hands drifted away to her waist. 

But then, his mouth replaced his fingertips, and he leaned over her to kiss the small of her back. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, his mouth moved downwards, slightly to the left of her crack, close enough to leave Rose tense with anticipation. 

He reached her thigh, having skipped her cunt altogether, and then kissed the same spot on her right thigh, and began moving upwards, back over her ass and still nowhere near her. Rose was panting by then, giving breathy moans into the pillow every time he got close. 

He kissed her right lip. Then her left. Each touch drove a gasp out of Rose, though she tried her best to contain it. 

And then, finally, gloriously, his tongue was on her. The slick heat was everything she had hoped for, and she couldn't stop her sighs as he swirled around her clit.

Just as she thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, his thumb moved to cover her asshole, and her gasp could probably have been heard from the TARDIS control room. It moved only a little, but it was enough to give a whole new layer of sensation to the fantastic things that the Doctor’s tongue was doing. It buried a little deeper, and Rose loved it, to her surprise. His tongue flicked against her clit, and she began to give high, keening moans as she opened herself completely to him. Tension was building in her, as his thumb moved in circles to open her asshole further and further.

But, just as Rose thought her climax was building, the Doctor stopped.

She moaned loudly in protest. With a parting kiss on her left cheek, he rose onto his knees. Stroking her back with one hand, the other helped his dick to move along her length, pausing to flick his head against her clit. Rose bumped her ass against him, silently imploring him to get on with it. 

He found her entrance, and that unworldly sense of rightness filled Rose as he sunk into her. She stretched, trying to give him more access, let him go deeper, and when he thrust again, it was even more sensational than last night. 

They moved slowly, getting a sense for the position. Rose tried to match his rhythm, but they fell hopelessly out of sync. She tried again, and it seemed to work for four wonderful thrusts…until she moved too fast again, and they both started laughing as it fell apart.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” the Doctor chuckled. “Just stay still a second.”

His hands gripped her, holding her hips still as he slowly moved in and out. Gradually building speed, he started moving her in time, panting with each thrust…but got too excited, and got out of sync with himself.

Rose started giggling then. “That one was all your fault.”  
“Nah,” he said, leaning down to kiss her back.

“Try it again, but don't move me. Just keep me still,” she proposed.

The Doctor shifted a little, then did as Rose suggested. They both gasped as he started getting faster, and this time, with both trying desperately to stay in tune with the other, it didn’t fall apart. Rose gave a deep groan as the Doctor drove into her, one hand grasping the headboard so she could meet his thrusts. 

He was starting to gasp, pushing faster and faster until Rose reached a surreal, all-consuming level of sensation that she’d rarely felt before. 

With a wild, unexpected rush, the Doctor moaned, a low, long moan, and pushed himself deeper still into Rose, spasming as he finally climaxed. 

She pulled herself mostly upright, letting him draw her back against his chest. He clutched her, both dewy from the exertion, as his panting slowed. 

As he drew away from her, Rose collapsed face-first into the bed, relishing the deep ache in her hips with a smile. Her cunt felt sore too, but she couldn't remember the last time she felt so satisfyingly fucked.

Before long, the Doctor was back, drawing her in to spoon against him. His hand came to rest on her breast, and he kissed her neck softly.

“G’morning,” he murmured into her ear, managing to send a shiver through her loose body.

“Hiya,” she smiled. “Little bit randy today?”

“Not anymore,” he said.

She turned her head so she could grin at him. “Liar,” she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set straight after School Reunion - shoutout to KK1986 for the idea xoxo

Rose sank onto the seats around the TARDIS console, staring without seeing. The jealousy for Sarah Jane was fading now, and a colossal sadness had taken its place. They were parked at Mickey’s flat, she and the Doctor waiting for him to pack. She got to her feet with a start.

“Doctor, move the TARDIS for a sec, yeah?”

He looked up from the controls, nonplussed. “Move it? But what about Mickey?”

“Move it, and when we’re done ‘ere, move it back in time an’ grab him. It is a bloody time machine, isn’t it?”

“Well yes, it is, but…Rose, what’s wrong?”

She turned away from him. “Oh just move it, would you?”

He obligingly flipped some levers, and the TARDIS whirred and pulsed with light.

“There, floating out near the Moon. Now, please, Rose…talk to me.” He stood behind her, his voice soft.

Thoughts were whirling through her brain, and she felt too confused to cry.

“Doctor, I just…”

She turned blindly and stepped into him, leaning rather than hugging. He wrapped his arms around her, and she breathed deep. She wanted to fix everything in her mind; his smell, the texture of his suit, how skinny he felt against her. Finally the tears broke free, and soon she was sobbing into his chest as he rubbed her back.

“Rose…Rose.” He murmured nonsense to her. 

After a few deep breaths, she said, “It just…I just realised that this…this isn't going to last forever, is it?”

He kissed her hair, but stayed silent.

“I’m going to be Sarah Jane.”

“No…” he protested, but she bulled over him. 

“No, c’mon, even if I stay here for years and years, in the TARDIS, I can’t very well be a time-travelling grandmother, can I?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s happened before,” the Doctor said with a smile, but Rose ignored his attempt at levity.

“But I can’t do that to you. Make you watch, as I grow wrinkles and grey hairs.” 

Rose knew this was all fairly obvious, she really should have thought about this sooner, but it was all coming as a shock. 

She pulled back and looked at him, making her eyes examine every inch of his face; his soft mouth, his sad, sad eyes, every last freckle. She wanted desperately to memorise everything. One day they would part, and she would try to recall these tiny details, and would probably fail. But she had to try. 

“That doesn’t work,” he said, with a sad smile. “I’ve tried to memorise hundreds of faces while they're right in front of me, but they fade. They always fade.”

Tears broke free again, but Rose kissed him, still struggling against time. Still fighting to memorise the pressure of his lips, the way his tongue moved, the feeling of his hair in her fingers. She broke free.

Without a word, she lead him away from the console room, trying to remember the way to their bedroom — she was already calling it ‘theirs’. 

But she turned left, and there it was. The red door. She peeked inside to be sure it was the right room.

“I thought it was-“

“The TARDIS moved it for us,” the Doctor said, patting the wall with a smile. 

Rose smiled too, then pulled him inside. Turning to face him, she calmly began removing her clothes. The Doctor watched her with solemn eyes, then did the same. Before long they were both naked, and Rose moved so there was only a foot of space between them. She stood there for a long time, examining him as she had in the console room. The way his collarbones stood out. The pattern of hair and freckles across his chest. The shape of his torso, where it narrowed into his hips. The proportions of his legs, where they were defined and where they were too skinny. His eyes traced over her as well, an ancient sadness there. 

She stepped closer again, and put a hand on his face, looking deep into his eyes. It was a simple moment, both so exposed, both so aware of how ephemeral it was. They would never feel quite like this again. 

When they kissed, it, too, was simple; there was no lust yet, in their bodies being brought together. There was only warmth, and intimacy, and a deep, shared sense of loss.

After an age, Rose pulled away. “Lie down,” she said calmly.

The Doctor complied, and she followed him to the bed. She lay on top of him, and that joy, the joy of every inch of their bodies pressed together, was the same as always. Their eyes never left the other’s, as she stroked his cheek. His hands brushed over her, and she knew he was trying to capture the memory of her skin, her shape. 

They kissed again, and passion and sorrow were intertwined. The Doctor’s hands became gradually more urgent, pressing into her skin, and his kisses were rougher, biting at her lip.

Rose shifted, straddling him, and kissed him even harder. He was panting now, gasping, and it sounded close to sobs. His hands were desperate, tracing her body over and over, squeezing as if he were trying to hold her tight to him, forever. 

Then Rose drew herself away, sitting upright, still straddling him so that his dick was against her. Her hands skimmed over his chest, brushing a nipple, then stroking down his side where she knew he was sensitive. His breath stuttered, and she felt him growing harder. His hands gripped her waist tightly.

She moved her hips, one hand on his dick, letting him sit against her wetness. With small movements, she stroked her cunt against him, so that he would feel all of her. His breathing was still unsteady, and he gazed transfixed into her eyes. 

Lifting herself a little, Rose let his head rest against her entrance, and it slipped into her…then she pulled away, moving along the shaft again. She smiled a little at his gasp of protest, then did the same again, letting only the tip of his dick move past her opening. With small bobs, he slipped in and out of her, and he gasped every time. 

Then, finally, she sank down, slowly seating his entire length inside her. His eyes closed, and the Doctor leaned his head back, his breath escaping him in one long sigh. She held that moment, drinking in every sensation, the feeling of joined bodies, the Doctor rendered speechless by her alone. 

But, like every other moment, it passed, as soon as Rose began to move again. She drew him all the way out, then sank down again, wanting the Doctor to feel all of her. He did, she knew it, his hands on her waist trembling as she started to thrust. She had to close her eyes then, so she could properly feel him inside her, instinctively picking up the pace.

Before long she was gasping, and she leaned forwards a little to put a hand on the headboard. The Doctor couldn’t look away, and his eyes were like fire as Rose moved faster and faster. His hands clutched at her, and she started to moan, pushing down even more on every stroke.  
The Doctor was panting, and he whispered, “faster.”

Rose gave him everything, letting herself get caught up in the intensity, using it to drive herself even further. 

She cried out as she pushed him deeper into her than ever, shocked by the incredible sensation, and he cried out too, twitching a little. 

Rose sank onto him once more, and he gave small moans, face spasming as his mouth gaped open obscenely. She let him sit inside her for a long time, allowing him to savour the heat of her. He clutched her hips to keep her still, breath finally slowing.

Eventually, she lifted off him. The Doctor sighed, and his eyes found hers. 

She lay on top of him again, kissing his shoulder as she relaxed. Rose couldn’t help it; she started trying to memorise him again, this time with her hands. Texture, and warmth, and which areas were sensitive. His fingertips traced idly over her as well, and they lay like that for hours, their sorrow returned in full force.

~~~

Rose was half asleep when the Doctor shifted under her. She managed only a sleepy groan of consternation as he slipped away from her, leaving her alone on the bed. It took her several long minutes to rouse herself and look around blearily, and by then the Doctor had a notebook and stick of charcoal from somewhere.

Sitting upright, she blinked slowly at him. “Wha’ you doing?”

He gave her a small smile. “Hush. Just relax.”

“You drawing me??”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

She collapsed again, then called to him; “Want me to…I don't know…pose?”

“No,” he said, though she could barely hear him. “Just sleep, Rose Tyler.”

She did, spread out like a starfish. 

After what felt like hours, the Doctor nudged her; she hadn’t noticed him move to perch on their bed. He nudged her again.

“Rose, look.”

“Mmmmm,” came the indignant groan.

“Roooose…” His hand moved threatening over her belly, tracing over her most ticklish areas. She groaned loudly again and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. His hands returned though, relentlessly awakening her.

“Rose, look, it’s you.”

Her interest piqued, she rolled back into him, propping herself on an elbow to examine his sketch. The charcoal drawing was superb, her face soft and peaceful in sleep, with her hair done in lovely flowing lines. Her mouth was open only a little, making her look small and young.

“Oi, is that dribble?!”

“I’m a realist, Rose, not some modern artist! Besides, it’ll make me laugh.”

Rose looked at him. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, it’ll help me remember, won’t it?” The Doctor couldn’t meet her eyes. 

She wriggled closer to him, kissing the closest thing she could find; it turned out to be his hipbone. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I don’t know about that, the model was a bit rubbish. Testament to my artist’s skill, I suppose.” he gave her a cheeky grin.

She just snorted. 

“So, what then, do you have a book stashed away somewhere, ‘ The Big Book of the Doctor’s Conquests’? And my picture goes in at the end?”

His lips twisted a little, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to smile. He just managed a soft, “no”.

“What, then?”

He sniffed and looked around the room. “Maybe in here. Where I can look at your dribble always.”

“Dead romantic, that is.”

But the Doctor left the drawing on the nightstand when they left, and it was there every time they came back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after 'the girl in the fireplace'

Sunlight warmed her face, and a breeze ruffled Rose’s hair as she sat in a little cobbled square, drinking something that tasted almost like coffee, opposite the Doctor. 

“Where’d you say we are again?”

“Argentina. Well, the planet that Argentina claimed in 2135. Built in the image of the original country.”

“And Mickey ran off to…?”

He sniffed. “They still have football in Argentinamund.”

“Right, pissed off to watch the game. Typical.” 

Rose leaned back, soaking in the sun. But one look at the Doctor was enough to kill her mood; his breakfast sat before him, almost untouched, and he was gazing into space with a brooding frown.

“You alright then?”

He didn’t even look at her. “Yep.”

“So, what is there to do, on this Argentina Planet?”

He just shrugged. 

“C’mon Doctor, it’s a lovely day. I finally feel like I’m on holidays. So let’s be tourists, yeah?” She kept her tone light and playful, even though something dark was twisting in her belly.

His contorted like he was sucking a lemon. “You want to go find some sandals and do a bus tour, be my guest. I might just tinker in the TARDIS.”

“Oh, you’re like a bloody teenager!” Rose complained, her anger boiling over. “A sulking, antisocial little.…”

“Little what?” he said softly.

Rose said nothing. The silence sat between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Finally, Rose couldn't stand it. 

“Look, let’s do something. Just wander and see what’s around.”

“Wander. Right. If you insist,” he said.

“Well alright then.”

They stalked off from the cafe in frosty silence. The large city square was full of shady, tranquil trees, a sprawling park bordering one side, which Rose pointed out to the Doctor. She took his grunt for assent, and they wended their way across the square.

Rose almost felt a pang of guilt for her anger at the Doctor. But honestly, how could he expect her to be sympathetic when he sat there pining over some gorgeous French aristocrat? Madame de Pompadour…what a name. So elegant and intelligent, while Rose was running around in her ratty old t-shirt…how could he? 

She was suddenly struck by a thought; they weren’t over, were they?? Was he going to drop her home with Mickey? God no…

Rose sunk deeper and deeper into fear as they entered the park. It was cool and dappled, with rolling lawns scattered with couples, studying teenagers, and children. Rose snuck a look at the Doctor; the harsh, angry lines of his shoulders had softened a little, but he seemed sadder than in the cafe. 

She took a moment to really take him in; his swirling brown coat, cloaking the skinny frame beneath. He wasn’t looking around, just gazing downwards, lost in thought. 

Rose was startled to find her eyes pricking with tears. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like, to meet someone as fascinating as Reinette — for she was fascinating, even Rose had been a little transfixed. To break a promise like the one the Doctor had made. The guilt must be overpowering. 

Sudden shame flooded her. Here she was, demanding that he pay attention to her, not even thinking about why he was sad.

On instinct, she reached for his hand. He stopped in shock, and finally his eyes touched Rose. She couldn’t meet his gaze though, just looked at their hands; his bony fingers wrapped in hers. 

The Doctor started walking again, but this time it was more of a stroll, and Rose sighed in relief. She’d hated the stranger that had sat opposite her at the cafe.

They sank into a tranquil silence, wandering the park for ages, never saying a word. They both paused beside a pond, sinking into the stillness of the drifting ducks, the water lilies, the damp sunlight. The Doctor gazed at their hands, stroking a thumb over her palm, tracing the lines. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

“S’okay,” Rose said at once.

“No, not just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have talked about it. With you. About…having other people.”

He finally looked at her, the sunlight turning his brown eyes into a shimmering hazel.

“Well it’s not really fair to be angry, is it? Not with… with what I’m doing to Mickey.” Rose had to look down again, guilt stinging.

The Doctor said nothing, squeezing her hand, and then leading her on. 

They wandered further, until they hit the edge of the park, where there was a small gallery. This time the Doctor suggested they have a look around, and Rose agreed with a smile; the sulky teenager was dissipating already.

The alien gallery was indistinguishable to an Earth one; even some of the artwork was recognisable from Earth. Rose stopped to examine one that she thought was familiar, and the Doctor confirmed it; “Ah, Frida Kahlo.”

(Artwork: https://uploads6.wikiart.org/images/magdalena-carmen-frieda-kahlo-y-calder%C3%B3n-de-rivera/the-love-embrace-of-the-universe-the-earth-mexico-myself-diego-and-se%C3%B1or-x%C3%B3lotl-1949.jpg)

“She’s the one with the monobrow, yeah?”

“Oh, Rose.” His exasperation was only mild; he was riveted by the work in front of them. “She was brilliant. Poor woman.”

“Why’s that?”

“That there,” he pointed, at the small infant-sized man curled in the arms of Frida, “is her husband, Diego Rivera. An equally talented artist, but he wasn’t quite as dedicated to Frida as she was to him. Lots of affairs, etcetera. And she knew; see how the earth is cracked, how Frida is crying, but she’s calm and she cradles him, even though he’s hurting her.” His voice caught a little. “See, her pain is cradled within the Mother Earth, comforting and soothing, giving her the strength to support him.”

Rose was hypnotised, looking at the artwork in a totally new light. “But…why stay with him?”

The Doctor smiled, a heartbreaking smile, and said, “She tried leaving. But it’s too hard to stay away.”

Rose wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him, suddenly understanding the calm, protective faces of the Mother Earth. But she knew, too, that she was Diego, she and Reinette and Sarah Jane. Hurting the Doctor, but he couldn’t stop himself from holding on.

The Doctor kissed her forehead, and she leaned in for a proper hug. The familiar smell of his suit and the rush of relief that he was finally talking to her made tears prick at her eyes again, and she squeezed him hard. He chuckled and kissed her hair. “C’mon, let’s see what else is here.”

They toured the gallery, the Doctor finding certain works he knew and telling Rose the stories behind them, and Rose couldn’t tell if he was making them up or not. He got more and more animated, making her laugh with some of the more ridiculous tales, grabbing her hand to pull her along to the next artwork. By the time they arrived back at Frida Kahlo’s work they were both grinning uncontrollably.

“Come on!” the Doctor said, and pulled her back out into the quiet streets. 

“Doctor, where-“

“Oh, just come with me.”

They went a couple of blocks, then the Doctor made her wait on a street corner. Rose was burning with curiosity by then, and bounded after him when he came to find her again. He lead her to a small little hotel, waving at the secretary as he flashed past. Rose felt a smile spreading across her face as he lead her up a slender flight of stairs, paused before a door, and procured a new key from his pocket. 

“Ma’am,” he said theatrically, unlocking the door and pushing it open for her. 

Rose entered tentatively. The room was spacious and faced a small shady courtyard, the walls crawling with ivy above delicate breakfast tables. They had a tiny balcony, a sturdy oaken bed and quaint 18th century fittings, giving the room a romantic Mediterranean feel. Rose adored it.

The Doctor suddenly came up behind her and wrapped her up in a big bear hug, burying his face in her shoulder. 

Rose laughed, tottering, unbalanced. “Well hello.”

The Doctor started kissing her neck…but he wasn't kissing, he was…

“Doctor, are you eating me?”

He gave a stifled “mmhmm” as he gummed along her exposed shoulder, the strange feeling making her giggle. 

“Mmmm,” he whispered breathily into her ear. “Yummy, yummy human.” He stuck his tongue out, and Rose squirmed away with a squeal.

“That is disgusting,” she grinned.

“I’m hungry, Rose,” he said with mock menace. He stalked towards her. “Bet you didn’t know that Time Lords need human sustenance from time to time.”

Rose rushed around the bed, trying to keep it between them. “That explains your heroics. You keep saving planet Earth because thats where all your food lives!”

“My own personal game planet,” he said. He vaulted over the bed and pinned Rose into the corner. “I’m going to eat you, Rose Tyler,” he said threateningly, his breath hot against her.

Then, in a rush, he pulled her to him and lifted her up, dumping her onto the bed with a shriek. Rose was helpless with laughter, though couldn't help gasping when he lowered himself and kissed right over he crotch.

“Mmm, I’m gonna eat you.” His tone switched from scary to seductive in a heartbeat, and Rose fought for breath. He bit her through her jeans, the pressure oddly arousing.

She giggled as he moved upwards, laying a bite on her hip, her side, her breast, her shoulder. He leaned down, and carefully held her lip in his teeth. His eyes sparked.

He let it go with a tug, kissed her briefly, then grasped her hands in his and pulled them up over her head. 

Rose stretched, allowing him to pin her down with one hand while the other skimmed down her torso. She could barely feel it through her t-shirt, the pressure was so light, yet there was just enough sensation to make her arch into his hand. He chuckled, and traced over her jeans; she couldn't feel his fingers on her crotch, yet knew they were there.

“Too many clothes, d’you reckon?” she said breathlessly.

The Doctor leaned down and gave her a small kiss. “Not just yet,” he whispered. Then he leaned away.

“C’mon, wiggle ‘round,” he told her.

She rolled over and rearranged herself so her head rested on the plentiful pillows, bringing one knee up so her body lay open for him. His eyes were calculating, assessing every inch of her form.

“I want you to grip the headboard, Rose,” he murmured. “Don’t let go, ok?”

She did as he asked, feeling even more exposed, in a way that just increased the heat in her crotch. His hands rested on her, starting from her thighs and moving up her body together, laying to rest on her breasts. She sighed and stretched, needing him to touch bare skin. 

The Doctor tugged at the bottom of her shirt, then abruptly reached into his pocket. Rose watched with intrigue as he extracted a small pair of scissors, which he used to snip at the hem.

“Where did they come from?” she asked incredulously.

He gave his typical Doctor grin. “The pockets are bigger on the inside, Rose.”

With that, he gripped the t-shirt on either side of the cut and tore it apart. Rose just laughed at the foolishness of it, and he chuckled too.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, passing his hand over her exposed belly, as close as he could get without touching her. “You look gorgeous.”

Rose arched upwards with a smile, trying to come into contact, but he pulled his hand away too quickly. The Doctor grinned, then kissed her.

“Not yet,” he whispered again. Then he moved downwards, his breath ghosting over her torso. He laid a small kiss on her side, then another on her bellybutton. Rose’s breath stuttered at the contact, and she gripped the headboard tightly. 

“I love your tummy,” he murmured into her skin. “So soft…”

Rose felt her face flush unexpectedly. She hated her stomach, the way it sagged and bunched, but it felt beautiful beneath the Doctor’s kisses. His fingers stroked her side lightly, over the spots he knew were ticklish, but his touch was light enough that it tingled instead. Rose closed her eyes and sank into the sensations. She could feel every breath on her skin.

Soon, his fingers crept upwards, playing over the skin above her bra. She gave a long sigh, arching again, frustrated at the barrier between hand and skin.

Suddenly, her bra fell apart, and she opened her eyes to see the Doctor had used the scissors again. He slowly lifted the two cups apart, as if he were unveiling her. He stroked the sides of her breasts, which were even more sensitive than her tummy, eliciting a gasp. Then finally, gloriously, his mouth was on her nipple, and she whimpered at the heady rush of feeling. Her hands ached to grip his hair, to pull him to her, to move along his back, but she kept them on the headboard as he asked. She managed to use her body instead, trying to show him just how good his mouth felt on her. 

Eventually, he pulled away, and took only a brief moment to pull his jacket and shirt off. Then he worked on the buttons of Rose’s jeans, pulling away her underwear with them. With the scissors, the Doctor destroyed what was left of her top and bra, tossing them across the room. 

Soon, Rose lay naked, her hands still stretched out above her, so that her whole body felt long and supple. 

“Oh, Rose…” the Doctor sighed, and his hand ghosted over her crotch, one finger brushing against the coarse hairs there. Rose stretched her legs apart, using everything she could to encourage him.

“Look at you, so open for me.” As he leaned down to kiss her, one finger dipped between her lips, brushing against her clit, and she couldn't stop a shudder. Her whole body felt finely tuned, so that even the smallest movements were monumental. The Doctor didn’t even have to move his finger to make her squirm with simultaneous satisfaction and frustration. He stayed suspended over her, his eyes still quietly analysing her every move; his finger moved a fraction, and she buckled in response, a guttural moan slipping out. Rose had to close her eyes, to let herself be submerged in the slickness of his finger, the chain reaction that he set off within her, the desperate need for him to be inside her.

Round and round, his finger moved, driving her higher and higher. He was touching her as little as possible, just the tip of his finger against her swollen clit. Rose’s world was consumed by that tiny circular motion, brushing against a spot that made even the soles of her feet tingle. She was gasping in time with his finger, and she opened her eyes to find the Doctor gazing at her intensely, determination and a certain glee in his bright brown eyes. 

On and on his finger moved, stroking down her length then immediately returning to torture her clit. Rose felt muscles deep within her driven tighter and tighter, until she was giving off high keening gasps, so tense she felt she couldn't take anymore. 

But still the Doctor didn’t stop, and suddenly she was crying out, she was shuddering, and loose, and clinging to the headboard, an anchor in a sea of sensation. He carried her through the orgasm, his finger slowing but still brushing against her with languid strokes. Each movement caused a spasm to strike through her until she was spent, and she revelled in the unique sense of total relaxation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still got a bit to go! (but don't hold your breath)


End file.
